Broken Pieces
by TaleofUrban
Summary: A body part is all that remains of this murder victim. Patrick Jane and the rest of the team are out to catch the killer. While out doing so, Jane befriends a bartender and asks him out on a date. Written by de


**Title: **Broken Pieces

**Rating: T+**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. I only wish I did.

**Author's Note:** Hello! I am posting this as a part of an assignment for my creative writing class. We needed to create a fic, post it, and get feedback from readers about what we could do better. I'd really appreciate any comments I could get so that I can improve as a writer. Thanks in advance!

The sun burned bright in the sky causing every person at the crime scene to sweat. Despite the heat, the team of CBI agents and the consultant, Patrick Jane, approached the scene wearing their usual attire of long sleeves and long pants. The leader of the group, Teresa Lisbon, squatted down next to the body, or lack thereof. She glanced up at the police officer as she stood.

"Is this ours?"

The officer shrugged and pulled her off to the side. All that remained of the body was a hand. There was another agency on the other side of the road, about twenty yards away. The hand was in the middle of the road, and just by looking at it, it was nearly impossible to tell whether or not the hand was in Nevada or California.

Kimball Cho, one of the agents, was entirely sure that the case would fall into their hands. "The damn GPS is going to put it about four feet into California, I know it is."

His fellow agent, Wayne Rigsby, only shrugged. "Hey, think positive: it's in Nevada."

A female agent, Grace Van Pelt, walked over to them. "Forensics are already running prints. Maybe we'll get a quick match."

Rigsby scoffed. "We never get that lucky. Guess we'll be talking to the hand for a while."

Jane smiled at them. "Why so glum? A case is a case."

Rigsby looked at him, bewildered. "It's windy, we haven't eaten all day, and it's in the middle of nowhere. " He sighed. "Dismemberments are a bitch. You can spend months looking for all the parts of a victim, and there's always a piece missing."

Jane gestured to the hand on the ground. "There's already plenty to work with right here."

Van Pelt raised her eyebrows at him. "It's a right hand with the number forty-three written on it."

Rigsby squatted down to get a closer look at the body part. "Well, it's a male hand or a not very femme female." He glanced up at Jane. "So what else do we have to work with _'right here'_ with that forensic analysis?"

Jane tilted his head as his eyes scanned over the hand. "Well, let's see... He's probably a white man in his mid-fifties. He wrote on his right hand, so that means he's a lefty."

"Maybe the killer wrote it," Cho added. "Like some kind of message."

"Too faded," Jane replied. "Besides, a killer would write it bigger, want it to be noticed."

The agents glanced at one another before Jane got down on his hands and knees. He took a whiff of the hand, and Rigsby nearly gagged and turned away. The police officers that were on duty glanced over towards the man on the ground but didn't say anything about it. The officer that was speaking with Lisbon gestured towards Jane, but she waved him off. "He's just a consultant."

"It smells like almond oil moisturizer, musky cologne, and tobacco. The palms are supple, nails professionally maintained, so a rich man. Oh, and there's a faint tan line on the little finger from a missing pinky ring which suggests that he's an extrovert in a job where extroverts thrive." He stood up as he finished his sentence and folded his hands in front of himself.

"So...?" Van Pelt questioned.

"He's upper management in the hotel or gaming business," Jane answered, sure of his answer.

Cho shook his head. "That's a total guess."

Van Pelt and Rigsby just looked at one another as Jane turned his head to look at Cho.

"What do you wanna bet that I'm right?"

Cho dug around in his pocket and pulled out some change. "Thirty-five cents."

"Thirty-five cents?"

"Yeah."

Jane almost chuckled, a large smile on his face. "I find that hard to believe considering that crayon bank that you have probably hidden behind your bedroom door that you've been filling with all the spare change that you could accumulate since you were, what, fifteen?"

Cho looked to Rigsby, disbelief clearly written on his face. Rigsby only offered a shrug in reply. Cho turned his attention back to Jane, who tilted his head with his know-it-all smile.

"Thirty-five cents, take it or leave it."

"Oh, I'll take it," Jane replied. "You got a bet."

Van Pelt looked between the two men, shocked. "I don't think that it's right to bet on body parts. That's a human being that died."

"No, it's okay," Rigsby assured her. "We're in Nevada. Here in California, it'd be wrong, but here?" He crossed the state line to where Jane and Cho were standing. "In Nevada? It's okay to gamble on body parts."

Lisbon walked over to the group, rejoining them after her talk with the officer. "The hand is three feet into the state of California, so he's our baby."

"Hooray," Rigsby mumbled sarcastically.

"Yeah, hooray," Lisbon agreed. She glanced over her shoulder and told them to bag and tag the hand so it could be transported back to the lab. "The prints say that his name is Jay Quincy Mayers. He runs some casino called The Lincoln Resort Casino. Come on."

She left, Van Pelt and Rigsby following close behind. Jane cleared his throat, and Cho turned to him. Cho dug into his pocket and placed the change into Jane's waiting palm.

"Thank you."

Cho didn't reply. He just turned and followed the rest of the group. Jane brought up the rear with a smile on his face.

Once they reached the office, Van Pelt sat at her computer while Rigsby and Cho sat down behind their desks and Lisbon stood in the front of the room by the whiteboard. Jane headed to the back of the room and laid down on the couch, leaning his head against its arm.

"What the hell, Jane? We have a case to solve," Lisbon scolded him.

"I'm not interested in the paper stuff and waiting for calls." Jane closed his eyes, prepared to take a nap. "Wake me up when we have to go out and talk to people."

Lisbon sighed. "Rigsby, Cho, check to see if we can find anything out about the victim's last calls and who was the last to see him alive."

"On it, boss."

"Van Pelt, check to see if there's any records of his emails and see who he was last emailing.

"Got it."

Lisbon walked to the back of the room and slapped Jane with a stack of paper. "Jane, you and I are going to talk to the victim's family."

Jane groaned, but rolled himself off the couch and followed the agent out the door.

At Jay's family's house, they knocked on the front door. An old woman opened it, and Lisbon smiled at her.

"Are you Elizabeth Mayers?"

She nodded. "Yes. What is this about?"

"It's about your son, Jay Mayers. We're with the CBI." She flashed her badge. "I'm Teresa Lisbon, and this is our consultant, Patrick Jane. May we step inside?"

She stepped to the side, allowing them to enter. Elizabeth closed the door behind them and the three of them walked into the living room.

An old man poked his head out from the kitchen. "Liz? What's going on? Who're these people?"

"They're with the police," she replied, and he walked over and sat down next to her. "They want to talk to us about Jay."

The man frowned and looked up at Jane and Lisbon. "What's goin' on with Jay?"

"He was found murdered this morning. We're so sorry for your loss," Lisbon answered, gentle with her words.

Elizabeth gasped, tears springing to her eyes as she covered her mouth. "No..." The tears began to run down her cheeks and in a few moments, her cries were audible. She turned and buried her face into her husband's shoulder. "Oh, Harold! Not Jay! Not Jay..."

Harold held her close, but he just stared quietly down at his lap. "Oh, god..." he mumbled quietly. "What-what happened...?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out, sir. We just have a couple of questions," Lisbon replied.

"Oh, of-of course. A-anything you need to know."

Silence filled the room, save for Elizabeth's crying, and Lisbon allowed the elderly couple a few moments to take in the new before asking questions.

Once the elderly couple calmed down enough to speak, Jane was the first to pipe up with a question.

"May I use your restroom?"

Lisbon shot him a look that was nearly a glare. "Jane!"

"No, no," Elizabeth said, blowing her nose into a tissue. "It's okay. It's upstairs, the first door on the left."

"Thank you." Jane smiled kindly at her before standing and leaving to go upstairs.

He took time to look over the pictures that were hanging on the wall. Most of them were pictures of the old couple with Jay in them, but there was also a woman in some of the pictures. Jane proceeded on his way to the bathroom. Instead of using it, he looked through the medicine cabinet, seeing if there was anything in there that could be of use to him and the case. After finding what he was looking for, he flushed the toilet so no one would be suspicious and went back downstairs.

"Did Jay have a girlfriend?" Jane asked.

Elizabeth turned her head towards him with a small smile on her face. "He did. Her name was Jennifer. They were head-over-heels in love with one another. Thought that they were going to get married, I really did. They even spoke about it. But one day, she just randomly broke it off. Jay was never sure why, but she left him heartbroken. I don't think he ever really got over it. It happened about two years ago."

"Do you know Jennifer's last name?" Lisbon asked.

"Ashley. Jennifer Ashley," Harold chimed in, and Lisbon wrote the name down.

"Did Jay hold any grudges towards her for leaving?"

"No. Even though she left him - just like what Liz said - Jay never got over her; he was in love with her. He even tried to keep in touch."

"Do you know the last time that they had any contact with one another?"

"No."

"I do," Elizabeth spoke up. "They went to a bar, I can't remember the name of it, but it's one that Jay would frequent a lot. _Sundown_, or something like that? About a week ago, he met up with her, but they fought. Jay said she left in a huff."

"Thank you so much for your time," Lisbon said as she stood up. "We may have more questions for you later on."

The couple led the two investigators towards the door. "Of course, we're willing to cooperate," Harold said. They exchanged goodbyes and closed the door.

Lisbon pulled out her phone and called Van Pelt. "See if you can find a bar that has a name similar to _Sundown_ around this part of town. Jay's casino isn't that far away from his parents or his home. He would frequent the place a lot." She hung up and got into the car; Jane followed suit.

"He takes Trazodone."

"What?" Lisbon glanced at the consultant who was looking out the window.

"He takes Trazodone. It's a sedative and an antidepressant, but most doctors prescribe it as a sleep medication. Why wouldn't they tell us about the medication he was taking?"

"Maybe they just didn't think it was that important."

Jane just shook his head. "No, I don't think that's it. It's in his parents' medicine cabinet, which means he's there enough to have to keep medication there. He's clearly a mama's boy, though. Trusts her more than the father. She, at least, would know about the medication. Why would he need it? Also, I have a theory: the missing pinky ring. It was a gift from Jennifer, and that's why he always wore it. He keeps a piece of her with him. But it was missing from his body."

"Do you think she's the one that killed him?'

"No. It's too predictable, but it's very unlikely that the ring just fell off. I saw it in some of the pictures he was in with her. She isn't as rich as he is; she wears simple clothing. The ring wouldn't be worth a lot, so there isn't a reason that the killer would take the ring unless it meant something to them. It has to be someone that knows her or knew of them and didn't like them together."

Lisbon's phone rang, and she answered, putting it on speakerphone.. "What've you got?"

"There's a bar on Mongrove Avenue that's called _Sunset_," Van Pelt replied. "It seems to be really popular with people that go to the casino; it's right next door."

"Jane and I will swing by and see if we can get any information about the fight. Look up Jennifer Ashley and see what you can get on her. Have Cho and Rigsby go and check it out once you have an address."

"On it."

Lisbon hung up and changed traffic lanes to head towards the bar.

There were only two people inside once they got there. One of them was wiping down tables and the other was behind the counter.

"We're not open," the tall, large man said from behind the counter.

Lisbon flashed her badge. "CBI. We have a couple of questions to ask you. What's your name?"

He frowned, inspecting the badge. "Benny."

"You got a last name, Benny?"

"Just Benny."

"It's Zelar," Jane leaned over and whispered to her. Both Lisbon and Benny seemed shocked at this. Jane simply pointed to a small picture on the wall. "He's the cook; the name is right there. You just gotta squint to read it."

"What do you want?" Benny asked.

"We're investigating the murder of Jay Quincy Mayers. He was here last week with a woman named Jennifer Ashley. Do you know anything about that?"

"No." Benny shifted his weight, cracking his neck.

"Sir, this is a murder investigation. We can charge you for obstruction of justice if you don't cooperate."

Benny didn't seem fazed by that, and he didn't say anything else. He cracked some of his fingers by stretching his hands.

"Come on, Benny. Listen," Jane started, leaning on the counter. "We both know you don't want to deal with her. She's a bit cranky when she doesn't get what she wants." Lisbon wanted to protest, her face clearly suggesting it, but Jane continued on before she could. "Now, I know you were there that night. You're telling me that with your body language."

Benny's structure seemed to break a bit as he shifted his weight once more.

"You heard some shouting, heard some glasses being slammed. A little bit of this and that, right? Things like that happen all the time, but this time, you had to check. Your curiosity got the best of you. You peeked out, just long enough to see what was going on." Jane stood straight again. "So just tell us what happened."

Benny backed up a step from Jane, cracking his other hand now. "That's it. I didn't see nothing. I knew it was Jay cuz he's a regular here, but I didn't see anything else."

Jane shrugged and glanced over at Lisbon. "We can go."

"Excuse me? What do you mean 'we can go?' There's more questioning to be done," Lisbon replied.

"No, there isn't. We're wasting our time with him."

Lisbon sighed and turned back to Benny. She'd been on enough cases with Jane to know that once he set decided something was unnecessary, he didn't revisit it until it became necessary. "Don't leave town. We might be back for further questions."

Benny nodded and disappeared back behind a door that lead to the kitchen.

Jane and Lisbon began to leave when a voice stopped them.

"Hey."

Jane turned his head to look back at the man that had called out. "Yes?"

"How come you don't think I have any valuable information?" The man tossed the towel he was cleaning table with over his shoulder. "Overheard you talking with Benny, saw what you did. You made him squirm; no one makes Benny squirm like that. How'd you do it?"

Jane motioned for Lisbon to leave without him. She sighed, gave him a glare, and told him that he better not get himself into trouble. He complied and turned to face the stranger completely. "It was just easy to read him. He gave us everything that we needed. He had nothing to do with it."

The stranger laughed. "I coulda told you that. Benny's just a big teddy bear, just looks like he'll rip your head off. He doesn't like people knowing that he's actually soft." He folded his arms over his chest, arching an eyebrow with a small smirk playing on his lips. "So, can you tell anything about me?"

Jane decided to humor the thin, lanky man. He took a seat and gestured for the other man to sit across from him. "You're introverted for the most part. You tend to keep off to the side, even while you work. Your outfit is dirty, showing that you clean the tables rather than filling and taking orders. You have a bit of paint on your pants, so you're probably an artist. You're gay and proud of it, signaled by the rainbow tattoo on the inside of your wrist, but you're not very open with it." He leaned in a bit closer. "Judging by the way you talk and your height and age, I would say you're in your mid-thirties. And you're hiding a secret. A secret that you hold very dear to your heart; a secret that you're hoping no one finds out about."

The man laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in it. "Don't we all have secrets?" He shook his head. "You're good. Quite good, actually. I'm impressed. Except I'm not gay; I'm bisexual."

"Ah," Jane answered with a light nod.

"I also sometimes take people's orders when we're real busy. I'm Spencer. Spencer Matthews." He offered his hand for Jane to shake, which he did.

"Patrick Jane."

"So how do you do that trick? You a psychic or something?"

Jane shook his head. "No. Psychics aren't real; they're all fakes."

Spencer nodded in agreements before folding his hands together and changing the topic."I hear you've stopped by for some information on a fight about a week ago?" Jane nodded. "I was working that night. I was cleaning the tables in the back. He slammed a shot glass down on the table and broke it, which lead me closer to clean it up. They were shouting at one another. She was telling him that she wouldn't be able to see him anymore, and he was telling her that that was absolute bullshit. I only caught part of the yelling because I assume it had escalated from a normal conversation. Didn't make much sense without more context."

Jane took in Spencer's words. "I'll have to tell Lisbon about it."

"My guess," Spencer continued, "is that the lady found herself another somebody because she had a nice diamond ring on her left hand, and he wasn't sporting any sort of wedding band. Seemed like they were lovers at one point, but that's all I know. That's all I suspect."

Jane made a mental note of it, knowing he would have to tell Lisbon about it. "Thank you for your time, Spencer."

The two men stood up. Spencer would have to get back to work before the place even opened, and Jane needed to head back to the office to talk to Lisbon about the new information.

"We might have more questions for you," Jane added.

"I work here every day at some point. Drop by, I'll probably be around." Jane nodded, but Spencer grabbed his wrist. "You know what, better yet, I'll just do this." He pushed Jane's sleeve up, pulled out a thin marker from his apron, and scrawled a number on the inside of his forearm. "Just call me."

Jane smiled at him. "Will do. Have a good day, Spencer."

"Back at ya." Spencer went back to wiping down the tables, and Jane stalled a moment, looking at the man before turning and leaving the place entirely.

After a few days, many questions, and hours of research, pieces were finally falling into place.

"We found the rest of Jay's body," Lisbon told the team. "Forensics is having a look at it first. It wasn't in one piece either, but it looks like all the pieces are there."

Rigsby did a small fist pump by his thigh. "At least that makes this one step easier," he added.

"Hopefully. We're trying to learn why he would be cut up in such a way. Any ideas?" Lisbon directed the question towards the consultant who was laying on the couch with his eyes closed.

"No."

"No?"

"No, not a clue."

Lisbon glanced at her fellow agents. Jane always had ideas, and this was odd for him to not have anything to say. Jane just snuggled down into the couch, his arms folded over his chest. It was clear that she wanted to call bullshit on him, but she kept her mouth shut.

"Alright," Lisbon sighed. "We're on our own for this part."

Another day passed as Jane looked at the evidence by himself. He wasn't as focused as he normally was. His mind was preoccupied with other thoughts: mainly Spencer.

Lisbon came walking in and noticed Jane standing at the whiteboard. "Wow. You came in here early."

Jane didn't reply to her; he only stared at the board.

"There's something missing."

"What do you mean? We have nearly all the evidence we need to convict Jennifer of the murder," Lisbon replied, but Jane only shook his head.

"It's too easy. It doesn't sit right with me. She didn't commit the murder," he insisted. "It was Harold."

"Harold. Really? His own father? Jane, it was Jennifer. All the evidence points to her."

"Neither one of the parents told us about the medication that Jay took nor did they tell us about the affair Jennifer was having. Elizabeth was hiding it out of embarrassment; she loved Jay too much to put him into any kind of danger." Jane turned to face Lisbon, connecting the dots in his head. "Harold wasn't as shaken up as Elizabeth was when we told them about Jay. He was too calm."

"Okay, so? I'll admit, he was a bit too calm about it, but everyone reacts differently to bad news like that, and it's natural for people not to incriminate the ones that they love."

"Harold was jealous that Jay didn't trust him as much as he trusted Elizabeth. He didn't like that Jay ran a casino, either. Didn't think it was right. He hated what Jennifer did to Jay, but who was he to say anything about it? He stole the ring in hopes that Jay would get over her. I just don't know why he would dismember him like that. Probably anger issues, I guess."

Lisbon sighed. "Jane, we don't have time for your theories and guesses."

Jane shrugged. "Jennifer isn't the killer."

Cho and Rigby walked by with Jennifer in handcuffs, leading her to a room they would have a talk in.

"If things fail with Jennifer, I'll humor you. Okay?"

"You're wasting time, Lisbon," Jane answered but went back to the couch to lay on it. Lisbon only sighed and walked away, heading to the interrogation room.

Just as Jane had predicted, things fell flat with Jennifer. The two male agents that had questioned her came from the room, frustrated.

"I don't get it," Rigsby started. "She was perfect for the crime. She had motive, time, everything."

"It's too convenient," Jane piped up from the back of the room.

Lisbon walked up behind the two guys and sighed. "Jane thinks that Harold is our murderer."

Jane sat up on the couch. "That's because there's more evidence pointing towards him than towards Jennifer."

"I told him that I'd give his theory a shot if things with Jennifer crashed."

"Let's go to their house, Lisbon. I'll explain it to you further once we get there."

"You better not pull any of your usual trick, Jane. I'm not getting in trouble with the DA again because of you."

Once at the Mayers' house and inside, Lisbon explained to Elizabeth that they only needed to talk to Harold, but Harold insisted that if anything needed to be said to him, it could also be said to his wife.

"We're charging you for the murder of your son," Jane told him, and Lisbon glared at him. He always got to the point quickly, but this was just too blunt.

"Me? You must be out of your mind," Harold replied.

"I thought you said that it was Jennifer," Elizabeth added, confused and worried.

"We did, ma'am," Lisbon explained, "but we found other evidence."

Jane didn't allow space for anyone to talk after that. "You were angry with Jay for falling in love with Jennifer, but your wife and son loved her, so you went along with it. Eventually, you came to accept it because everyone believed that they were going to get married. You overheard the conversation Jay had with Elizabeth about the fight he and Jennifer had. You went to talk to him about it, didn't you? To ask him why they fought and to convince him to leave Jennifer once and for all, right?"

Harold was silent, but Elizabeth was now glancing between him and Jane.

"You called him," Jane continued. "We know that from his phone records. The call was short, though, and then you called seven other times. Did you go to his house or did you meet him at the casino?" Jane raised his eyebrows, ducked his head a little bit, and looked at Harold. "You met him at his house. It would be easier to explain why you were at his house than why you'd be at the casino. There, you confronted him about Jennifer. I'm guessing that he told you that your opinion didn't matter all that much to him since you weren't his real dad and that he was a grown man."

"How did you know?" Elizabeth gasped.

"He's not in any of the baby pictures, and mama's boys tend to only take advice from their mothers," Jane answered and turned his attention back to Harold. "He tried to make you leave after telling you that he was going to try and reconcile with Jennifer because he loved her, right? When he turned his back on you, you attacked him out of rage, didn't you? You thought cutting him up would make it harder to identify the body, especially if you hid the pieces all over. You're an old man, Harold. You can't do as much as you once did."

"I'm not telling you anything," Harold said, firmly crossing his arms over his chest.

"It was a rage kill. Rage against your own son for wanting to chase the girl he loved. You stole that ring since it could easily be traced back to him, but it was more than just an accessory to him. That was clear from the messages and calls they shared." Jane finished, feeling like he has said enough to make the man uncomfortable.

"You didn't kill our son, Harold, did you?" Elizabeth's voice was quiet and shaky. Her hands trembled, and her eyes were wet with unshed tears as she looked up at him.

Harold opened his mouth, but no words seemed to come out. Instead, he shook his head, but that wasn't enough to satisfy Elizabeth.

"Answer me, Harold! Did you kill Jay?"

"N-no! No, he's lying," Harold tried to insist, but his heart wasn't really in it.

Tears rolled down Elizabeth's cheeks. "You liar. You..._liar_. You never liked Jennifer...and you never liked Jay. What's the matter with you? You always had anger issues, but you've gone too far. I can't believe you would do this to my son. _My_ son."

"Elizabeth, you know that there was no choice."

"Yes there was! There was a choice, but you took matters into your own stupid hands! You _murdered _my baby!" She choked back a sob and turned her back on her husband.

"Harold Mayers, you're under arrest for the murder of Jay Quincy Mayers. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law," Lisbon started reciting as she pulled out her handcuffs.

The case closed with Jane being correct; Harold killed Jay and tried to frame Jennifer for it.

Jane, laying on the couch, pulled out his phone and called Spencer.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Spencer. It's Patrick Jane."

"Mr. Jane, what a lovely surprise. Have you called because you've got more questions?"

"We've closed the case," Jane explained. "I have a personal question for you."

"Oh? Alright, go on."

"Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"

"I'm off work at nine, if that works for you."

"I'll see you at nine then."

"See you then, Patrick."

The line went dead and Jane closed his phone, looking at it for a moment with a smile on his face.

"What're you so happy about?" Lisbon asked, entering the office to get her coat before she left.

"Just going out to see a friend."

"Oh, really? Have fun."

She left, and Jane stood up. He smoothed out this suit. Ever since his wife and daughter died, Jane never allowed himself to go out with anyone or on any dates. He spent all his time dedicated to finding the killer that haunted him. This was the first time in eight years that he was going out. He wasn't moving on, but it was time to find someone important again.

Nine o'clock rolled around. The stars were twinkling in the sky, and the moon seemed extra bright tonight. Jane had told Spencer the diner where they would be eating and was waiting patiently in the back corner booth. He was dressed in a blueish-grey suit, one that he would typically wear to work.

"Hey, stranger."

Jane turned at the sound of the familiar voice and saw Spencer standing there. He wore a black suit with a blue tie, and he seemed to be a bit nervous. He took a seat across from Jane and offered a smile.

The dinner was nearly forgotten as the two men talked.

"How did you know?" Jane asked, causing Spencer to laugh.

"Bisexuals always know other bisexuals. Besides, you radiate bisexual energy. You're not the only one that knows a thing or two," Spencer teased him, reminding him of the way he had guessed a lot about Spencer on their first meeting.

Spencer's words made Jane laugh, and he reached across the table to take Spencer's hand. A soft blush dusted both of their cheeks, and both smiled at one another.

Once dinner was finished, and the bill was paid for, the two men walked to Jane's car. Jane pulled up in front of Spencer's house after receiving direction to it and walked him to the front door.

"I had a great time tonight," Spencer said, smiling widely. "Probably the best time that I had in a while."

"I'd love to do it again," Jane responded, his infamous smile taking over.

"I'd be honored to go on another date with you."

Jane leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Spencer's cheek. "Goodnight, Spencer."

"Goodnight, Patrick."

Spencer disappeared into his house as Jane walked back to his car. His fingers tapped the steering wheel as thoughts ran through his head. Things with Spencer had gone better than expected. Maybe all hope wasn't lost for Jane's love life.

Tonight had been such a lovely night for Jane, and he let himself take a few moment to revel in that fact. Things had gone well for him for a change.

Jane put the car into drive and noticed Spencer peering through the curtains. He waved and Jane waved back before driving off down the street, into the night.

Little did he know that Spencer's eyes weren't the only ones watching him disappear.


End file.
